Stranger
by notinuse4
Summary: 'Last night I slept with a stranger for the first time since you've gone. Regretfully lying naked. I reflect on what I've done.' Blaine is desperately seeking comfort, and since Kurt is in New York he can't get it. Enter, Eli, a stranger at scandals. But sometimes what you seek for comfort can be the thing to destroy you.


**I heard the song 'Stranger' by Noah and The Whale today, and I knew straight away I had to write a blangsty one shot about it. Listen to the song at the same time if you can, I've been told by wonderful friend and beta Rachael (klainebowdrops on here - look at her amaaaaazing fics) that it makes the story better :)**_  
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**Enjoy, and I welcome reviews!**

_Last night, I slept with a stranger_

_For the first time since you've gone_

_Regretfully lying naked_

_I reflect on what I've done_

I stare up at the ceiling, feeling sick.

Sick at myself, at what I've just done, at everything that is me in this moment. I had hoped to get a feeling of fulfilment, some sort of satisfaction, but I just feel even emptier. I felt uncomfortable in these scratchy sheets, the room unfamiliar and messy. The ugly curtains clashed horribly with the bed sheets, and the desk on the other side of the room was filled with cluttered knick-knacks, all useless and strangely irritating to me at 3am.

Everything irritates me nowadays though, because nothing is _right_. Nothing is happy, or funny, or beautiful anymore. Everything I see is clouded in grey. There's nothing left to do, nothing to fill my days.

No-one to fill my days.

That's how I ended up at Scandals, where I met Eli. I drank, and I danced to the pumping music, and I drank some more, and somehow I ended up here. In his bed, naked, hammered, and feeling like shit. But it's the only thing I can do now, the only thing that takes my mind off of it, off of _him_…

_Her leg still forced in between mine_

_Sticking to my skin_

_Stroking my chest and my hair_

_Head resting below my chin_

I'm sure that he was a nice guy. He seemed nice enough last night when we were dancing together. He wasn't my usual type, he was big and loud, with blonde hair flopping on his face and abs that could cut glass. For some reason he took an interest in me, kept buying me drinks and telling me how hot I was.

Then when we got back to his place he undressed me right away, telling me that I was sexy and gorgeous, and saying he'd give me the night of my life. I didn't care, as long as he made me forget. As long as my mind was somewhere else, and I didn't have to concentrate on the pain and loneliness coursing through my veins.

Now Eli was all around me. Limbs draped across me, skin still sticky with sweat. I felt smothered by him, trapped in his sleeping embrace. This was nothing like waking up with Kurt. Kurt always had the decency to get dressed again after, get cleaned up before wrapping me up in his warm, soft arms, legs entangled and eyes focused on me, just _me._ The me that Kurt, and only Kurt knows. He would make me feel so loved all the time, even with just looking at me.

I guess that's what I was searching for with Eli. Something to make me feel that way again, even though I know I'd never feel that way with anyone besides Kurt. But Kurt wasn't here, and this was my only other option. It's nice sometimes. It's nice to feel wanted, feel _loved_ in this weird, abstract way. Unlike how I've felt these past few months.

_I'm a fox, trapped in the headlights_

_And I'm waiting for the tires to spin over me_

_Because everything I love has gone away_

_Oh 'cause everything I love has gone away_

Ever since Kurt left, I've felt awful. I know it's hypocritical, seeing as I'm the one who told him to go, but I never thought it would be like _this_. I thought I was doing something good, being supportive and encouraging his dreams. If I hadn't convinced him to go, he wouldn't now be doing a job he loves with a boss he adores, in one of the most prestigious fashion magazines in the world. But I had hoped that he'd have more time for me.

I had hoped I'd still matter.

Obviously New York was too exciting, too amazing, and too wonderful for Kurt to remember his little boyfriend back in Lima, Ohio. That's another thing; I'm only _here_ because of Kurt. I moved from my friends, who were more like my family, and everything I had back at Dalton. I had to move back in with my parents, and drive an hour to school and back everyday just to be with Kurt.

My parents. They could barely put up with me either. I felt alone at home, always either being avoided or criticised. When Kurt was still around it was okay, because I always had the promise of seeing his bright smile to look forward to. Now there was nothing. My parents could push insults and criticisms and reasons why I was 'such a disappointment' at me all day long, and I had no-one to make me feel better. Kurt was always a phone call away, sure, but I'm lucky if he answers his phone once a week, let alone everyday like he promised. And phone calls were nothing like actually having him _here_, being able to hold and touch and kiss.

Kurt's kisses, they were something I missed most of all. I know it sounds odd, but I had grown so accustomed to them. I would always be greeted with a kiss, and we'd part with a kiss, and whenever I was sad or angry or scared Kurt could always make it better with a kiss. A simple gesture, just to remind me that he was here for me, and that he loved me even when it seemed like nobody else did.

Now I could hardly even talk to him; he was always too busy. It would be two more weeks until I could see him again, but I didn't know if it was physically possible for me to last this long. It seems melodramatic, and when I spoke to Tina about it she thought I was overreacting. She told me it seems bad now but it would be alright.

But I'm _not alright_.

_Oh the dark night is moving slower_

_And sleep won't rescue me_

_Leaving me here to suffer_

_This shameful misery_

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back tears. All I want is to sleep, to get rid of this sick feeling in my chest and the throbbing in my head, but apparently I can't even have that.

The thoughts swim around my head, all screaming to let themselves be heard. The guilt is the loudest though, almost drowning out the rest. How could I do this to Kurt? I feel sick with myself. This is the worst thing I've ever done to anyone, and I've done it to the one person who I care about most. It's one thing to be cruel to the person you hate, but to the person you love? The person who is supposed to be your everything, your whole world and still more. I know that I've screwed up big time. Kurt is never going to forgive me. I'll never forgive myself. I was just so damn _lonely_, and my dad was yelling and mom just _sat there_ like she always does, and all I wanted was to go and curl up with Kurt, to breathe in his scent and listen to his voice whisper comforting words.

But he was busy in New York, too busy to answer his phone. Too busy for me.

It was always easy to fall asleep with Kurt. Once I was in the strong cradle of his arms, or felt him curled up in mine, every other worry would go away and the world would seem perfect. Those last moments before I drifted off to sleep with Kurt, they were always the best moments for me. The moments when I was sure everything was going to be okay.

Now my bed is always cold and lonely, feeling too big for one person.

I stare at Eli and I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. It isn't like when I look at Kurt. When I look into his face, and I see his shining blue eyes and his perfect skin, slightly rosy cheeks, smooth lips and those adorable little dimples that appear when he pulls his mouth into the most radiant, most beautiful smile on the planet. His silky soft hair which is always perfectly styled, which he only lets me touch on special occasions. And I love touching it, running my fingertips through it, playing with the little wisps by the nape of his neck as we kiss. I see all the kindness, the love and the wit and the pure radiant joy in Kurt every time I look at him. I see everything that I love about him, and I see him loving me.

Eli is nothing to me. People always say that when they confess to cheating, but I honestly know it. He is absolutely nothing, no more than a fleck of dust floating past silently and totally invisible, because my vision is just filled with Kurt.

_So I run for a taste of freedom_

_Or at least freedom from this bed_

_Silently picking up my clothes_

_I turned on my heels and fled_

Eli stirs in his sleep, shifting his body so he isn't quite as attached to me as before. I take this opportunity to slide out of the bed, freezing when he grunts and moves again, but he soon begins snoring lightly again. I move around the room, cursing when I stub my toe on the corner of his wardrobe while I try to hop into my jeans. Once I'm dressed - well mainly dressed, my shirt is untucked and my tie is slung loosely around my neck – I take a moment to consider what I'm doing. Is it really fair to just leave in the middle of the night? After all, it isn't Eli's fault I'm such a wreck. I notice a pad and paper on the desk, so I scribble a quick thank you note and place it on the pillow next to him. I scan the room once more, and notice my phone on the nightstand. _Thank God I didn't forget that…_

I pick it up, and my stomach churns as I see that there's a new message. It's from Kurt. Taking a deep breath, I open it, and my heart stutters with a mix of love and intense guilt.

_Sorry I couldn't answer your call today – stuck in a boring meeting. I'm free now though, fancy a Skype call? I want to hear all about your presidential campaign, Mr Anderson ;) I love you forever, Kurt xxx_

I looked at the time it was sent – eight pm. That was when Eli bought me my first drink. So I was out, getting drunk, dancing with other guys, _sleeping with other guys_, and Kurt was at home wondering why I was ignoring him. God, I'm such a fool. I don't think I can last much longer without Kurt, without confessing. I know it'll kill him, but I can't lie to him, _I can't_. I can't act like there's nothing wrong with me, with us.

When I get home, my parents in bed, I make a rash decision. I open up my laptop, and buy a ticket on the next flight to New York. It's a crummy seat, and my parents are going to murder me when they find out, but I just can't bring myself to care. The only thing I care about is Kurt. I need to see him again, to feel him in my arms and hear his voice and look at him, properly, not through a crappy webcam.

Besides, this could be my last time.

_And the dark of the street_

_Took solace to me_

_Oh and I don't believe my conscience _

_Will ever be clear again_

"I was with someone" I blurt out, feeling like my heart is about to explode as I see Kurt's face fall. Tears fill his eyes as he screws up his face in pain, and all I want to do is take him in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be okay, to kiss away the tears and stop the sobs that shake through his entire body.

But I can't lie to him, and everything _isn't _going to be okay. Far from it, everything just fell apart before our eyes, and it's my entire fault. I'm a selfish, horrible, disgusting human being; I don't deserve someone as wonderful as Kurt. Kurt needs someone who he can trust to be supportive of him and not get bitter about his success. Someone who isn't so pathetic that he needs to have an affair in a twisted attempt at curing the heart wrenching loneliness. Loneliness that's only felt because he's so clingy and childish.

Tears blur my vision as I stare down the dark street at Kurt's retreating figure, a hand pressed to his face to try and stop the tears. His shoulders shake with sobs, and he looks so small, so sad, so broken, and it's my entire fault. He managed to resist his urges. He managed to get on without me. Why couldn't I?

Now I've ruined it all. I've lost everything. Kurt was my whole world, and I've ruined it. Why do I have this habit of spoiling every nice thing that happens to me? Why can't I just be a better person?

As I stand there in the middle of the street, I feel like my whole body has just crumbled into nothing. Kurt disappears round the corner, and the last thing I see of him is his face, bright red from crying, staring at me with an expression of pure pain.

And I swear, he is still the most beautiful thing I will ever see.

_Because everything I love has gone away_

_Oh 'cause everything I love has gone away_


End file.
